Fighting For Dragons
by Burnt Sugar Cookie
Summary: Shiara is settling in nicely to life with the dragons, but once again, the wizards are up to no good and she and Daystar, with the help of some friends, may have to fight for their lives to help Kazul keep her kingdom safe.


**In Which Shiara Re-Organizes the Cutlery and Two Princes Visit**

Shiara took to being Kazul's Princess, or rather, Chief Cook and Librarian, quite well. Sure, there were the initial adjustments that every Princess had to make, but as a firewitch, Shiara had quite an advantage over the other damsels. She didn't have to worry about being burnt to a crisp; she was perfectly happy to serve a dragon; and most conveniently, she found the lack of pursuing princes a good thing. And from what she heard from Cimorene, she hoped no one would_ ever_ decide that she was worthy of rescue.

Presently, Shiara was re-organizing the kitchen. The previous princesses (and there were only two, Kazul had explained, before she had given up the hope of _somehow_ finding a princess comparable to Cimorene) were obviously not skilled in cookery; they had managed to dent or chip every piece of cutlery in some way or other. Shiara picked up a bent spork and threw it into the steadily growing "unusable" pile. Nightwitch, her kitten pawed the spork playfully, before abandoning it to claim a spot on the mountain of unsorted items. Gingerly, she stretched, causing an avalanche of silverware.

"_Nightwitch_! Can't you see I'm working?" Shiara scowled at the cat, although she wasn't really angry. Daystar was coming today and apparently, he, his father, and Telemain had recently had a breakthrough in fixing her 'politeness' issue. "I thought I told you to look out for Daystar… Is he here already?"

"Nope." Nightwitch yawned.

"Then why aren't you guarding the door?"

"_Dogs_ guard. _I_ just thought that you would like to know that there's a man at the door."

"But it's not Daystar," said Shiara. She wondered who it could be.

The cat shrugged, as if to show who it was did not bother _her_ either way. Shiara was used to her cat's attitude and decided to find out who it was. Nightwitch only bothered her when something important was happening, even if she pretended otherwise.

As she got closer to the cave entrance, it became clear that whoever he was was a _very_ loud person. Shiara took a deep breath, and prepared for the worse.

"Dragon Kazul!" the man called. "Stand forth and do battle! I, Prince Tisdale, challenge thee for the Princ-"

Shiara stepped out to see a young man dressed in expensive clothing and a crown on his golden hair. He had noble cheekbones, blue eyes, and upon seeing Shiara, a large smile on his handsome face. Overall, he was a Prince Charming.

_Oh no, _thought Shiara, _a Prince Charming. _

The prince took a bow. "Princess Shiara. Fear not, for I have come to rescue you from the Dread Dragon Kazul." He looked smug, misreading Shiara's expression for pleasant surprise. "Now, where_ is_ that dragon of yours?"

"First of all, I am _not_ a princess. Secondly, I do _not_ want to get rescued. And most importantly, Kazul is _not _my ." Shiara rolled her eyes and began to close the door. _It would probably be best if I get rid of him before I burnt him to a crisp _she thought.

"Stop, dear lady. Perhaps I have not made myself clear –"

"Ooh, you've made yourself clear enough for me to understand that I want nothing to do with you."

"But dear lady –"

Shiara slammed the door before she could begin to think well of the burning idea. She started to make her way back to the kitchen only to be stopped by three sharp taps on the door. _Cimorene was right to say that they are insistent, _she thought with a sigh.

"Go away!" she called, and as an afterthought: "please!"

Determined to ignore the Prince at all costs, Shiara went back to sorting her pots and pans. Nightwitch stared at her with a bored expression. "Why aren't you opening the door?"

"Why do you _think_?"

"In all honesty, I have no clue. I thought you were _eager_ to see Daystar."

Shiara dropped the pan she was holding. (A shame really – it was the only one which, until then, had not been damaged.) "_Sometimes _Nightwitch, you _really_ get on my nerves."


End file.
